The archive remained locked behind them, but the feeling of intrusion did not leave with the missing papers.
Evelyn walked beside Lucien through the long corridor, her thoughts moving faster than her feet. The manor around them had resumed its careful silence, but it no longer felt peaceful. It felt watchful, as though every polished wall and every closed door had already taken note of what had been stolen.
Cassian walked on Lucien's other side, his expression hard and unreadable. The three of them moved together without speaking for several moments, the only sound the measured rhythm of their footsteps and the distant murmur of servants farther down the hall. Evelyn kept glancing toward the windows as they passed, half expecting to catch sight of movement in the snow beyond the glass.
Instead, the forest remained hidden.
That was almost worse.
By the time they reached the main corridor leading toward the inner offices, Mina had already begun gathering the staff. A few servants stood in nervous clusters near the side passage, their heads bowed and hands folded tightly in front of them. The air carried a faint undercurrent of panic, though everyone was trying very hard to look composed.
Lucien gave one brief order and the servants immediately scattered to obey.
Evelyn paused near one of the corridor arches, watching the activity unfold. It was remarkable, and unsettling, how quickly the mood of the manor changed whenever Lucien issued a command. No one questioned him. No one hesitated. His authority moved through the house like a second current beneath the air itself.
Cassian noticed her watching and frowned slightly. "What?"
She glanced at him. "Nothing. I'm just learning how your house breathes."
That made him look at her more closely.
The comment had slipped out before she thought about it, but she did not take it back. The manor truly did feel alive in its own way. Not literally, perhaps, but as an organism shaped by old obedience, old grief, and old secrets.
Lucien turned toward them after giving a few final instructions to the guards. "The staff will be searched."
Cassian crossed his arms. "You think one of them took the records?"
"I think someone used the confusion."
That answer did not narrow anything down, but it did make the problem feel sharper. Evelyn looked toward the far end of the hall, where Mina was speaking in hushed tones to two maidservants. Their faces had gone pale.
She lowered her voice. "Could it be one of the elders' attendants?"
Lucien's gaze moved to her. "Possible."
Cassian's jaw tightened. "That would mean they came here planning it."
Lucien did not deny it.
Instead he said, "Stay in the east wing until I return."
The order was given to both of them, though Lucien's eyes rested briefly on Evelyn as he spoke. She found herself strangely irritated by how quickly he assumed she would comply without protest.
"You say that as if I'm naturally obedient," she said.
His expression remained calm. "Are you not?"
Cassian made a quiet sound that might have been laughter if he had allowed it to become one.
Evelyn stared at Lucien, offended on principle. "You're starting to resemble your son."
"That is not an insult."
"It was intended as one."
"Then you failed."
Cassian looked between them, clearly amused despite himself. "You two do this often."
Evelyn blinked. "Do what?"
"Argue like it's normal conversation."
Lucien's eyes flicked briefly to Cassian, who immediately looked as if he regretted speaking. Evelyn, however, found herself fighting the urge to smile. It was the first time in a while the atmosphere had lightened for even a single breath, and she hated how much she appreciated it.
Unfortunately, the relief did not last.
A shout echoed from the lower corridor.
All three of them turned at once.
A guard hurried around the corner, visibly breathless. His face was pale and strained, and he bowed so quickly he nearly stumbled.
"Alpha -- we found something."
Lucien's expression changed immediately. "Where?"
"The east service corridor, near the kitchens."
Evelyn's pulse jumped.
Cassian straightened. "What kind of something?"
The guard swallowed hard before answering. "Mud. And blood."
Lucien was already moving.
Evelyn and Cassian followed without needing to be told. The corridor leading to the kitchens smelled faintly of herbs and warm bread, but that comfort dissolved the moment they reached the service passage. Several guards stood nearby, and one maid was crying quietly into her hands while Mina tried to calm her with a steady voice.
Lucien crouched beside the stain on the floor.
Evelyn looked over his shoulder.
The mud was dark and damp, streaked with a faint metallic smear. Blood had mixed into it in a way that made the edges look almost black. A single torn thread lay beside the mark, caught on a jagged splinter near the wall.
Cassian frowned. "Someone passed through here."
Lucien touched the mud lightly, then raised his fingers to his nose. His expression tightened just slightly.
"The ridge soil," he said again.
Evelyn looked up sharply. "So the same person came through the archive and here?"
"Yes."
Cassian's eyes narrowed. "Why the kitchen corridor?"
Lucien did not answer immediately. Instead he rose and looked toward the lower passage that led out to the rear courtyard. "Because it is one of the least watched paths during guest visits."
The guard beside them nodded in grim agreement. "We were all focused on the receiving rooms and the archive wing, Alpha. No one noticed anything until after the staff count."
Evelyn's stomach turned.
This had not been a random theft. Whoever did this knew the manor's structure, the timing of the elders' departure, and the usual shift in staff movement when guests were present.
It meant the intruder had either studied Blackthorne Manor carefully or had been inside it before.
She did not like either possibility.
Mina approached Lucien after a brief hesitation, her hands still trembling slightly. "Alpha, the maid who was serving near the western passage noticed an unfamiliar scent."
Lucien looked at her. "Describe it."
Mina swallowed. "She said it smelled faintly like wet earth and something bitter. Not human. Not wolf."
Evelyn's skin prickled.
Something bitter.
That sounded wrong in a way she could not immediately explain, but the description reminded her of the archive room, of the soil residue, of the forest's strange stillness. The scent markers were all beginning to connect in a pattern she still did not fully understand.
Lucien remained silent for a long moment.
Then he said, "Call off the remaining staff searches."
Mina blinked. "Alpha?"
"Searches will only create more noise. Whatever entered the manor is no longer inside."
Cassian looked sharply at him. "You're sure?"
Lucien's gaze moved toward the courtyard doors. "It left with the papers."
That sentence settled over the corridor like frost.
Evelyn looked at him. "So this was never about staying hidden. It was about taking something and disappearing before anyone could react."
"Yes."
"And the blood?"
Lucien's jaw tightened slightly. "A mistake."
Cassian frowned. "Whose?"
Lucien did not answer.
The silence that followed was enough to make Evelyn uneasy. She looked down at the bloodstain again, then at the torn thread. It was too neat for an attack, too careful for an escape gone badly. One person had left, carrying stolen records and ridge soil, and one person had apparently bled along the way.
That meant there had been a struggle.
Maybe not here.
But somewhere close.
Evelyn looked at Lucien. "You think the intruder was injured?"
"I think they were interrupted."
That answer made the room colder.
The guards began clearing the corridor after Lucien gave a final set of orders. The maid who had been crying was escorted away, and Mina remained nearby only long enough to confirm that the kitchen staff had not seen the intruder's face. By the time the corridor emptied, only the three of them remained.
Cassian stood with his hands clenched loosely at his sides, his expression sharp with frustration. "Someone walked into our house, stole the archive records, and left through the kitchen passage."
Lucien nodded once.
"And we still do not know who they are."
Another nod.
Cassian looked close to snapping. "That is unacceptable."
"It is reality."
The answer landed hard.
Evelyn found herself studying Cassian's face as he turned away slightly. He was angry, yes, but beneath that anger there was something more personal, something that looked suspiciously like wounded pride. The idea that someone had entered his home and outmaneuvered the Blackthorne household clearly bothered him on a level deeper than ordinary concern.
She understood that more than she wanted to admit.
A house was supposed to be safe.
A family was supposed to know when someone had crossed its borders.
Lucien looked at the torn thread one last time before speaking quietly. "Have the kitchen staff reminded not to discuss this outside the manor."
Mina bowed immediately. "Yes, Alpha."
He turned then, his gaze settling on Evelyn.
She felt it at once -- the weight of his attention, the silence before the command.
"You will stay with Cassian tonight," Lucien said.
Evelyn blinked. "What?"
Cassian looked up in surprise at nearly the same moment.
Lucien continued calmly, "Until I return from the northern wall, you will not be alone."
Evelyn opened her mouth to object, but the look in his eyes stopped her. This was not a casual instruction. It was a measured decision made after weighing something she could not see.
"Why?" she asked quietly.
Lucien's answer came after a brief pause.
"Because whoever entered the manor already knows where to look next."
The words settled like ice in her stomach.
Cassian's expression darkened immediately. "You think they're coming back?"
Lucien's eyes moved toward the east corridor, where the archive and the portrait gallery lay hidden farther within the manor.
"Yes," he said. "If they did not find what they were truly seeking."
Evelyn went still.
Because for the first time since waking in this strange world, it occurred to her that the missing records might not have been the only thing someone wanted.
And if the intruder returned, it might not be for the papers at all.